


Pirouette

by LadyAna5



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Episode Related, F/M, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-07-18
Updated: 2000-07-18
Packaged: 2018-11-11 02:38:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11139492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAna5/pseuds/LadyAna5
Summary: Rennie, Dief and Ray have located Fraser and Victoria.  How will the trio succeed in turning them over to the authorities?  How will Ray react when he finally confronts Fraser?This story is a sequel toSymphony of Simplicity.





	Pirouette

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Pirouette by L.A.K.

 

 

**Pairings:** Vecchio/Turnbull, Fraser/Female, Fraser/Vecchio  
 **Teaser:** Rennie, Dief and Ray have located   
Fraser and Victoria. How will the trio succeed in turning   
them over to the authorities? How will Ray react when he   
finally confronts Fraser?  
 **Notes/Disclaimer:** Copyright to Alliance.

****This is the fourth in a series of four:****  
The first is Choreography by Gilda Lily  
The second is Strange Duet by L.A.K.  
The third is Symphony of Simplicity by L.A.K. 

* * *

##  Pirouette  
by L.A.K. 

 

The cognac numbed his lips and burned sweetly on the way down. He took  
another sip, reveling in the sensation. Head back, eyes closed, he sighed.  
He was already fuzzyheaded. He stared at the raging fire before him,  
the way the flames danced around the brick hearth, nestled in the middle  
of the elaborate wooden abode. The cabin honestly could not be seen  
from a distance, since it was so shrouded by the peaks and valleys that  
dotted the area. He vowed he'd never live as he had in Chicago ever  
again. This ostentatious cabin, complete with all the luxuries anyone  
would need, proved it.

It had been so long since he'd been able to indulge himself. He squeezed  
his eyes shut. It was better to not be reminded of it all, to look to  
the future instead. One did what one needed to have the life they'd  
planned on years ago. This was his time now.

His companion came in the room at that moment and he let his eyes rake  
over her small form. He mused to himself just how much he was going  
to enjoy making up for lost time. She looked at him with disdain, but  
it did not matter. He was free and he planned to keep it that way.

"What are you doing?" Victoria asked, obviously annoyed.

He sighed heavily.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you're getting drunk." She snapped. Her eyes bore into  
him, but it had little effect. "We need to stay sharp. We're not out  
of this yet and we need to keep moving. We are leaving here soon and  
don't have time for this!"

He regarded the glass in his hand, placed it on the mantle, and then  
smiled as he gently took hold of her small wrist.

"I thought we talked about that." He remarked absently.

"About what?" she asked.

His grip tightened. Slowly, menacingly, he constricted his fingers to  
the point of intense pain.

"What the...? Let me *go*! Ben, I said go of me, damn it!"

Victoria began roughly pulling away from him, her anger increasing.   
Fraser simply twisted her arm until she yelped. He grabbed her by the  
shoulders, shaking her as he spoke.

"You do *not* tell me what the HELL to do anymore, got it?! I wasted  
an entire YEAR of my life for you, convinced I was the naive fool, having  
to be around those bloody morons all the fucking time! I'm done with  
your orders, do you *understand*?!"

"Get your hands OFF me! LET ME GO!!" she screamed.

He violently shoved her away. He seized the glass off the mantle. His  
gaze glided over her again, his eyes primal, his breathing wild.

"Fine...*this* time."

She backed away, the fear and hesitancy plain on her face. She knew  
that threat, the insinuation of carnal assault. She'd come to expect  
it from him when he'd been drinking. But the mask dropped into place  
so fast, he barely blinked before being rewarded with a sly, mischievous  
smile. It made him warm to stare into those hypnotic eyes, her voice  
so smooth and entrancing. To surrender to the power she held over him...

"Well, I know you're stressed, baby. But it'll be over soon." She cooed,  
the tranquil tone, the seductive lilt mesmerizing him as it always had,  
as it had saved and condemned his life at Fortitude Pass years ago.   
"Then we can relax and live in style." It touched something deep inside  
him, stirring his very soul. He swayed a bit, placing his hand on the  
wall.

She slid up beside him. The only image he could compare it with was  
a snake. A beautiful, dark creature, overwhelming and deadly... He was  
growing dizzier, and more excited, by the second. Her sheer presence  
for him had always been more intoxicating than any drug. One he could  
never get enough of. She was his shield, his denial.

The glass was slipping from his hand, but it was taken before he dropped  
it. He grabbed onto the wall for support, knowing if only he could touch  
her, it would make his head stop swimming. Her sweet venom could stop  
the chaos in his mind. It always had. She coiled her arm behind him  
in a loose embrace.

His eyes closed, his breathing erratic, the world slowly stopped spinning  
as he recovered in her arms. There was a surge in the tingling in his  
groin. It reminded him why he loved her. The bitch was as cold-blooded  
as he was. His reptilian counterpart. She always got what she wanted,  
of course. He'd stop drinking, and instead relish the way she gave up  
the puss to make him purr like a well-fed tiger. It was her usual solution  
to their fights. Sad fact was he more than conceded to it. It was his  
ultimate addiction.

"Yeah, that's right." He whispered as he held her tighter.

He began to strip her quickly.

He loved being home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rennie was right, Ray silently mused, as he worked alone on his newfound  
interest. There was something oddly entertaining about being an obsessive  
compulsive. He could concentrate on this task and find himself more  
preoccupied with the simple hobby than the last six months of his life.  
Ray cursed, having gotten glue on his hands again. He laid down the  
piece of plastic shard. He soaked a tissue with acetone to wipe his  
fingers clean. He jumped at the voice behind him.

"Still mooning over that bastard, huh?"

"Go away, Pop."

"What do you thinks gonna' happen anyway? That once you find him, he'll  
just turn himself in?"

"I'm not talking to you, Pop, so you might as well go away."

"That female has him so bewitched he doesn't *want* to see straight!  
Can't you see that?!"

"I see that very clearly!" Ray said, refusing to look at the ghost.   
"Why do you think I'm here?"

His father came in close, sneering in his ear.

"How could you let that oily bastard Zuko do that stuff to you? How  
could you do that to him? You are no son of mine!"

Ray jumped from his chair, spinning to face the apparition.

"Damned straight, Pop! I'll never be like you!"

"Uh-huh. And see where it's gotten you? You let that canuk screw you  
over, and then you fuck Frankie to keep my house from going under! Now,  
here you are, in the middle of an icebox, ready to give it up to that  
moron. If you'd had looked out for yourself-"

"GET LOST!!!" Ray screamed. "I don't EVER want to see you again! Do  
you hear me?!"

"Ray! Ray, wake up!"

The Italian's eyes flew open and stared into the face of his worried  
partner. Ray had fallen asleep at the table while working on his plastic  
project.

"You were having a bad dream."

"Oh."

Ray didn't know what else to say. His bad dreams had been a source of  
Ren's concern for some time now. They had, thankfully, decreased somewhat  
as of late. Not that Turnbull, the biggest worried mother hen of all  
Mounties, would believe him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ren sheepishly asked.

"No...no, I don't." Ray squeezed his eyes shut. "Maybe later. What  
have you got?"

"Well," Rennie said, reluctantly turning his attention to the papers  
before him. "We head out tomorrow for the section I've got marked off  
here. Dief agrees we very well might get lucky this time."

It was another late night at the outpost. This time, there were a couples  
of roll-a-away beds set out for them in a remote room, seeing as Ray  
demanded some type of bedding be made available. The couch was hard  
enough on his back as it was. The Italian began to scan the sections  
Rennie marked off.

"This looks promising, Rennie! I've got to hand it to you, this is better  
than I expected."

Ren sat on the edge of the bed and glumly stared at the floor.

"As much as some may think differently, they do not hand out the red  
serge to idiots, Detective." He stoically responded.

The Italian's eyes bugged out. "I didn't say that, Turnbull!"

"No, you just thought it in the past."

It was apparent to Ray something was really bothering the young Constable.  
There was a pause before Ray responded.

"Then I was wrong." The American stated, truthfully addressing the fact  
Ren was right about his previous perception of the blond Constable.   
"What's going on, Ren?"

"You're concerned about what Garette said, aren't you?"

Ray lowered his eyes. "How can I not be? That guy was right where he  
said he would be, right here at the outpost."

"You told me, Ray, not everything that man says makes sense."

"That's true enough. But what about you, Ren? You don't believe him?  
Not in the least?"

Trying to get the old man who had visions to aid them in their quest  
wasn't easy. It more like the mental equivalent of pulling teeth.   
At the start, Garette was determined to not help them. He saw it as  
some odd disloyalty to Fraser.

The older man had looked into the ex-Mountie's soul and saw kindness,  
a gentle spirit. Oddly enough, it was that belief which made him eventually  
decide to aid Turnbull and the Detective. He wanted to understand *not*  
how he could've been so utterly wrong, but what had made the benevolent  
man he knew disappear.

He placed his hands on the one item Ray had that bound them together  
and listened as the homeless man made his predictions, telling of his  
visions featuring Fraser and Victoria. It was difficult for both men  
to listen to the intimate details of the other's involvement with the  
older Canadian. Ray abandoned his constructing the pieces of plastic  
before him and came to recline at the head of the bed.

"He's a marksman, Ray." Ren said. "You know that. You've seen him vicious  
and manipulative and cunning...and that's when he was the good guy."

Ray smiled, but said nothing. Finally, Turnbull turned to look at him.

"I'm not sure if *we're* coming out of this either."

"You think he's gonna' kill us, Ren?"

It was a fact Ray didn't like to think about, but was aware it was a  
possibility.

"I think he's not going to let us take him in and he won't leave Victoria  
behind." Ren looked away. "You loved him, didn't you?"

Ray said nothing. This conversation was long overdue. They'd discussed  
escape routes, plans for capture and return, how the media should be  
handled and even each other's lives. They never, however, talked about  
what they felt for Fraser.

"Yeah, I did." Ray answered.

Ren seemed to think about that for a minute before responding.

"I don't think I loved him. It was more of an obsession. Ray, do you  
remember when Garette said, 'The half moon is a sad devotion.'?"

"Yeah, so? I still don't know what he meant by that."

"I...think I do."

"Really? What, then?" Ray asked.

Rennie grabbed the bottom of his sweater and pulled it up over his head  
and off. Ray's eyes lingered over his chest momentarily, finally resting  
on a faint white scar on Rennie's right clavicle. It was shaped like  
a lemon wedge.

"What is that?" Ray breathed.

In response, Rennie lifted his right foot to rest on his other knee.  
He was wearing boots. He looked at Ray, then away, utterly ashamed.

"What? I don't get it."

Ren nodded his head toward his boot. Finally, it sunk in.

"A HEEL print!!" Vecchio roared. "That's a scar from a fucking heel  
*print* of a Mountie boot!? That bastard did this to you?!"

"I let him do this to me..." Rennie corrected. "I didn't obey him fast  
enough. He thought he heard someone in the hallway while I was in his  
office...serving him, so he shoved me away with his foot. But that's  
not what caused the scar though. He was so angry, once he stood, he  
violently kicked me. My shoulder exploded in pain. I thought the bone  
was broken. It wasn't though."

Ray stayed silent only because he was reeling from shock.

"Mostly, almost all the time, I'd serve him on my knees." Ren stated,  
his voice empty, his eyes far away. "He'd call me to his office, I'd  
kneel, he'd finish, and I'd leave. Once in a while, he'd get behind  
me and stroke me to completion, talking the all the while. I...loved  
his voice, it was...anyway, it was nearly impossible for me to finish  
sometimes, knowing he just wanted to get it over with." He swallowed  
heavily. Ray waited. "Despite that, I went back to him. Whatever he  
wanted, I surrendered."

He stole a quick glance at his partner, seeing nothing but compassion  
in Ray's eyes.

"I don't love him now, of course." Ray said honestly. "I don't think  
I'll ever be completely over what he did, Rennie. The nightmares I have  
are proof of that alone. But I certainly do not feel that for him anymore."

Rennie looked away, muttering, "Maybe then we can be together without  
him getting in the way."

Confused, Ray asked, "What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, come on, what is it?"

The younger man sighed in exasperation. "It's all we talk about, Ray!  
There really is no 'us' unless there is a mention of him. I'm just wondering  
what's going to happen once they're caught. I don't want to be compared  
to him. I don't want you to be with me to erase his absence in your  
life! I...hate it when I know you're thinking about him, dreaming about  
the pain he caused you. Can you understand that?"

Ray was surprised. The blond Canadian was, in a way, jealous of Fraser.  
Clearly, he was worried all the Italian cared about was apprehending  
the ex-Mountie.

"Rennie, I would never do that! Okay, well, maybe in the beginning I  
did, but believe me when I say I don't think of him when I look at you."

"Really?" Ren plaintively asked.

Eyes of the sky, soft as a summer's day, pleaded for that to be true.  
Ray understood perfectly. Turnbull had been there through all of Vecchio's  
tears and hate they both had to endure during this hunt. At times, the  
Italian believed he would go mad from all the pain and mental anguish  
he could not let go of. Still, Ren stayed with him, allowing him to  
vent in whatever manner he needed at the time. Now, all the Mountie  
was asking for was recognition.

"Yeah, it is. And you're right. We'll talk about something else, okay?"  
Ray smilingly reassured him.

"What *do* you see in me?" Ren asked, his voice uncertain.

It was at that point Ray was convinced that dumb Mountie act was a course  
all of them were required to take. It was unbelievably endearing. This  
was it. It was truly time to put Fraser in the past and find a future  
in the friend before him. Vecchio leaned forward, taking one of Rennie's  
hands in his. He pressed his hand to his lips as he spoke. Ren could  
feel the vibrations of his voice.

"I see you, Ren. Nothing else, just you."

Ren came closer and searched Ray's face questioningly. The Canadian  
cupped his cheek and kissed him timidly. Ray responded just as lightly.  
He placed his arm around Ren and pulled him close. Rennie began to kiss  
him again, a little more each time. He thought the Canadian's blush  
was adorable.

They were let their tongues dance together, tentative caresses growing  
bolder by the second. Ray wanted to tell Turnbull how beautiful he thought  
he was, that just the idea of being with him caused a tightness in his  
chest. The younger man would never understand, of course. He'd have  
to show him instead.

"Come on, Ren."

Ray felt the warm tingle increase all over while looking at that beautiful  
chest. He went to undo his tie, when Rennie's hand came up to stop him.

"I'll do that." He insisted.

He set the knot free and slipped the cloth from around the Italian's  
long neck. Ray swallowed and Rennie became fixated on his throat. His  
lips latched onto the side of it, sucking gently. Ray openly panted  
at the glorious sensation, his hand coming up to ruffle through the blond  
hair. He pulled the Canadian up, onto the bed with him. While kneeling,  
Ray unbuttoned his shirt slowly.

Rennie watched in fascination. He found the wiry hair so very different  
from his own body. He went up on his knees as well and found himself  
rubbing his face all over it, cupping a pec with reverence, letting his  
mouth brush over the waiting nip, followed by his tongue and nimble lips.  
It was incredible watching Rennie suck his chest as if it were ambrosia.

Ray could tell the Mountie was tensing up badly. Ren's back was becoming  
like a tightly wound spring, his arms moving stiffly. That's when the  
Italian stood to remove his own pants, shucking them and his underwear  
quickly.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Rennie. I just wanted them off."

Turnbull went for his jeans when Ray laid a restraining hand over his.

"Let me do that." He said while smiling.

Rennie grinned like a schoolboy while Ray rejoined him. The American  
undid the zipper and scooped out the prize within. His hand gripped  
around the hard cock, pulling out the flushed pink sac that was dusted  
with dark hair. Turnbull was paralyzed at the feeling. The Italian  
began stroking the shaft, causing reverberations throughout Ren's body.  
Turnbull hastily removed his boots and Ray eased the jeans down until  
Rennie removed them.

By now, Turnbull was breathing in short pants, his concentration totally  
focused on the sensations in his groin. He was trying his best to come  
as fast as possible as he'd been taught in the past by Fraser. Ray enveloped  
him in his free arm, the other still intent on bring as much pleasure  
as he could.

"Calm down, Ren." He whispered. "You don't need to rush. I'm not going  
anywhere."

Turnbull squinted and leaned back to look down, completely entranced  
by the sight of Ray's elegant hand doing incredible things to him.

"I'll try." He breathed, his broad form trembling.

"Tell me, Ren. Tell me what you've wanted to do to me."

Ray knew he was taking a chance, but he had a feeling this would work.  
Vecchio believed since Ren was so restrained, simply voicing his need  
would be quite thrilling for the Mountie. He stroked while Ren became  
more and more explicit in his descriptions of what he wanted to do to  
Ray. The younger man began speaking in half sentences, backed by the  
Italian's affirmations.

"...I've wanted to...taste you...all over."

"Oh, I'd like that."

"....wanted to make you come so hard...I..."

"How, Rennie? Tell me how."

"Anyway you want."

They tentatively kissed and caressed one another as they spoke. Vecchio  
found he was getting into it as well, incredibly turned on by the simple  
act of getting the shy Canadian to talk dirty. He finally had Ren take  
hold of his own throbbing dick and pump it slowly. After a while, the  
Detective made another request.

"Lean back, Ren. Look at yourself. See how beautiful you are."

Rennie leaned back on his hands, making his dick stand out, blatantly  
offering it to the Italian, making the Detective dizzy. Rennie laid  
his head back, the low light from the lamp making his pale body glow.  
A thin sheen of sweat covered him, his legs spread far apart, his hands  
gripping the edge of the bed. He obviously loved this chance to display  
himself to Ray, to indulge in such exhibitionism. It made Ray's own  
cock strain again for attention. Ray's hand started from his neck, moving  
down, over the pale chest, stopping briefly at the nipples, touching  
the sides and feeling of that flat, muscled stomach, back to that delicious  
piece of meat.

"See? I told you you were beautiful."

Ren smiled modestly and Ray leaned in kissing his chest, licking and  
sucking at the dusty rose nips. The smooth areolas turned to a rigid  
nub under the moist touch, causing the Canadian to whimper slightly.  
The Italian leaned down, brushing the weeping cockhead against his cheek,  
the stubble assaulting his partner like tiny lightening bolts. Ray felt  
a hand touch the inside of his thigh and he gasp. The hand moved up  
to the warmth of his tight balls, and he shivered. He went completely  
still when Turnbull once again encircled his turgid shaft.

"Yeah, that's it...don't stop." Ray whispered, his mouth covering Rennie's.

His mouth opened and it was all heat and warmth and light spilling into  
him. Ray returned the favor by licking up his neck and nibbling on his  
ear. He allowed the hand to continue its journey of driving him wild,  
wanting it, needing it to happen. He pushed Ren down, their cocks touching  
for the first time. Rennie grabbed him and hung on, suddenly became  
intent on grinding his groin into Ray's until they melded that way.

"Oh, yes, Ray.... please, that feels *so* good..." he pleaded.

Ray couldn't bare a response it was so overwhelming. He growled and  
thrust back, the nearly imperceptible hair on Rennie's stomach acting  
like a thousand tiny fingers to the Italian's throbbing meat. He slammed  
against Ren, craving to come, the man beneath him even more out of control.  
Strong, muscular legs wrapped around him, while heavy arms grabbed him  
tight.

The blond bucked his hips wildly, meeting Ray's cock and brushing his  
own against that lightly furred stomach making him insane with desire.  
He wanted to come more than anything. A soft voice could be heard telling  
him to relax, to slow down. Ray was trying to get him to not seek an  
end so quickly. The Italian got up on his knees.

Vecchio caressed his partner's legs and thighs, swirling his hand in  
the erotic juice on Rennie's torso. Ray continued the exploration, his  
eyes lustfully gazing over the gorgeous, hot and sexy body before him.  
Rennie was getting antsy, wanting to try again, certain he'd finish this  
time. Before he could speak, Ray leaned into him and uttered the gentlest  
words, making him jump out of his skin.

"Can I fuck you, Caro?"

"Yes!" he snapped.

Rennie answered before Ray finished the request, but Vecchio just smiled  
and obtained the needed supplies from the nightstand. He got in between  
those splayed thighs, then lubed up those slender fingers, letting the  
excess run over and down them. Ren watched in restrained glee. He allowed  
a most arrogant thought to drift toward the evil man he once would have  
done anything for.

**I'm so glad you left when you did. If you had let him do this to you  
and *then* turned your back on him, I swear I'd kill you slowly myself.**

Once those fingers found their way home, first one, then two, slowly  
working in and out of the puckered ring, it pushed the usually subdued  
Canadian to the brink of his control. His aching manhood was pumped,  
the slickness of his own wetness combined with the excess K-Y created  
a gloriously erotic feeling. Intense carnal joy transformed his angular  
face into a smiling, laughing visage. He mentally exclaimed maybe the  
ex-Mountie should watch his back even now.

"Knees up, Rennie. Yeah, that's it."

His patience was lost when Ray slowly rolled down the condom.

"Please Ray, hurry!"

The Italian quirked one corner of his mouth. "My, I don't think I've  
ever seen you impatient, Rennie."

"Oh God, don't tease me, Ray. I can't...I need..."

Ray relented. "Sure, baby. I know you need it."

Vecchio positioned himself and pushed. He pushed again and was met with  
resistance. He thrust again and found the head being engulfed in a tight  
hotness. It made him shudder deeply, the shocking rawness of the act  
burning through him. It was an exquisite, unexpected high which made  
him profoundly aware of the man he was mating with. There was no one  
else in the entire world except the two of them.

"Oh, fuck, yes! Rennie, oh God, Ren..." Vecchio breathed.

Turnbull arched his hips and Ray slid further in. Rennie's passage was  
so snug, he felt like he was being pulled inside. As much as he wanted  
to repeatedly nail his partner, he went slowly. A steady pace of rocking  
back and forth ensued. The Canadian met him in his thrusts, his powerful  
legs resting in the crook of Ray's arms. Finally, the Italian was all  
the way in.

The searing warmth surrounding his cock made Ray tremble. He was falling  
into Rennie in spirit, mind and body. He resumed pumping his hips, delighting  
in the sensuous elation, surrendering to the lascivious appetite created  
in him by his partner. It was primal and untamed. The Italian looked  
down, thrilled to see his lover was experiencing that wonderful ache  
as well. Ren's head back, eyes tightly shut, his heels instinctively  
hooked under Ray's arms, he was groaning continuously, clinging to Vecchio's  
hips hard enough to bruise. He was absolutely beautiful.

Ray began to lose himself in it completely, allowing the bliss to permeate  
him. He leaned down, letting Rennie envelop him in those thick arms.  
Turnbull's head was back, his face lax with desire, his eyes open, but  
barely seeing. Rennie began canting his hips over and over again and  
Ray knew he was close. The Italian began bucking his hips slower, and  
leaned in enough to latch onto a nipple with his hot mouth.

Ren gasped loudly, his hands drifting down to Ray's back, the chills  
all consuming. He grabbed Ray's ass, holding on tight. He used it as  
an anchor to direct his hips and to pull the Detective in farther. The  
combination of Rennie's dick pounding against his stomach, his own prick  
buried to the hilt in that fine Canadian ass, the crinkled nub in his  
mouth and the paw-like hands deeply massaging his butt was more than  
Ray could take. His head snapped back, the nipple making a popping sound  
when he let go, his climax rushing to the surface, through his soul,  
like wildfire.

"RENNIE!!!" He screamed.

He fought the urge to weep, but could not prevent his energy level from  
nearly dying. Only partially recovered, Ray braced his wobbly body so  
he could help Rennie finish. Ren continued to propel his hips, his eyes  
locked onto the Detective's. His mouth opened, closed, his eyes fluttered  
shut. His head went back, the tremors in his body increasing. He smiled  
and whimpered. Ray found himself grinning at the sight. The Mountie  
looked down, mesmerized by the sight of his dick sandwiched between their  
two stomachs. He continued to stare when he his orgasm became imminent.  
His gaze flickered back and forth, fighting with the need to stare into  
the eyes of his lover or literally witness his own cock coming.

"Keep watching it, Ren. See it happen."

It was scary. Terrifying that Ray read his mind. He gave in to the  
perversely thrilling sight, excited beyond reason or thought while watching  
the hairy, shiny, sticky skin rub against his dick until it spurted white,  
all over, adding contrast to the thick clear film  
...total heaven. He collapsed, barely registering Ray leaning down over  
him. They eventually wound up on their sides, facing one another.

He didn't know how much time elapsed before he heard Ray speak.

"Rennie, don't feel ashamed for what you did with him. We all have something  
to regret."

"And what do you regret, Ray?" he asked.

Ren rose up on one arm and saw deep into those pain-filled green eyes.  
The Italian looked like he was going to cry.

"Honestly?"

"Always."

"Letting Frankie have at me."

Ren felt a pang of hatred mixed with sadness that bounced between Ray,  
Fraser and Zuko. He touched Ray's cheek when he spoke.

"There wasn't much else you could've done, Ray, considering the   
circumstances. He planned for Fraser and Victoria to show up that night  
to destroy your world. He needed to emotionally cripple you so you would  
submit. There's no shame in that."

Ray wouldn't meet his gaze.

"There's more to it than that, Ren."

Rennie sighed. Ray had promised to talk about something other than Fraser.  
He realized now that not everything they spoke of would be easy to hear.  
"Tell me, Ray."

Finally, Ray looked at him.

"You know Frankie and I were together before then?"

Ren did not look away.

"Yes. I know that."

"We were just kids." Vecchio explained. "About fourteen or so. About  
five of us went over to Frankie's house to get him so we could all go  
play ball at the nearby court. His parents were out of the country.  
He'd broken into his father's wine cellar. We all wound up getting a  
little toasted. One by one, the other kids left, saying for us to meet  
them at the park. I ended up alone with him. Next thing I know, Frankie's  
kneeling in front of me, his elbows on my knees. He's smiling and...I  
don't know about you, but when I was that age, tree knotholes excited  
me."

Ren couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry." He said, clearing his throat.

"S'Okay." Ray said, smiling. He continued, his voice suddenly full of  
awe. "I...I'd never felt anything like that. It was heaven. We were  
only together a handful of times. We stopped because he was terrified  
of his father finding out. Plus, Frankie beat up this defenseless kid  
at school. It sickened me that I could have wanted him like that."

"Ray, I'm so sor-" Surprisingly, Ray cut him off, as if he hadn't  
even heard him.

"This time, I hated and despite everything Frankie did. Eventually,  
my body responded in spite of what I thought of him. He...made me get  
pleasure from it. I wanted...him to continue. He asked me, right in  
the middle of it, did I want him to stop and I knew he would've if I  
told him to, just to torment me. He would mercilessly coax me and I  
gave in, I *let* him do it. I would tell myself I had to, that I was  
scared not to, but there was a part of me that was beginning to enjoy  
that bastard." His face revealed his defeat, his self-loathing. "After  
that, I would try to tune him out and most of the time I could, but how  
do think I feel knowing I did that? And...it...it was easier to get  
off than have to remember what Fraser did to me. Why do you think I  
tried to kill myself? I was Zuko's bitch and everyone knew it."

"My God, Ray! What were you suppose to do?! Who could prevent that  
from happening to themselves? You're only human!"

Ray looked so distraught at that moment. "Then why do I feel like a  
pervert?"

"Because he forced you to enjoy something you hated! It's still rape,  
Ray, even though it excited you. He *made* you go to him time after  
time. That's not being a willing participant. Just because your body  
demanded to be sated doesn't make you sick like him."

"You really believe that?" the Detective asked skeptically.

"Yes, I do."

Ray managed a feeble smile. "You know that nightmare I had earlier?  
It was about my dad."

"It was?"

"Yeah. Not much to tell, really. Same old stuff. Pop believed we  
put him through a lot when we were growing up, like we were taking up  
his time or something. Him always telling me to look out for number  
one..."

Ren waited, but Ray seemed lost in thought.

"Ray?"

"I'm here, Rennie. Just got a crazy notion in my head. Looks like Pop  
may do some good after all."

They snuggled close together before drifting off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They would not be leaving the cabin for at least a few days, much to  
Metcalf's disdain. She wanted to leave the cabin as of yesterday. A  
storm was coming and it was gaining in its intensity. The snow would  
be heavy, but would not prevent them from leaving as planned. The law  
was not as hot on their trail as before, but Fraser was still being careful  
by not staying in one place too long. They were both making their way  
to obtain supplies. Victoria accompanied with him on the second snowmobile,  
seeing as they would need to pull the sled back and Metcalf was claiming  
she going nuts, being cooped up in the cabin. It obviously did not matter  
to her there was a storm starting to pound the area.

Up ahead was their contact. Constable Perry was meeting them with various  
containers meant to get them through the next several days. The meeting  
place was just a few miles from the cabin. While tracking them back  
would not be difficult, Fraser felt there was no reason to bring the  
man to directly to his front porch. Fraser and Victoria alighted from  
the snowmobile. The ex-Mountie paid for the stuff and watched the other  
man leave before he began rummaging through the boxes. Metcalf was becoming  
impatient.

"Are you going to go through all of that now?"

He rolled his eyes, beginning to realize just why the Gods determined  
they should stay apart for extended periods of time before reuniting.  
There was less possibility he'd strangle her.

"Yes, my dear, I am. Perry only got us what he knew wouldn't hopefully  
go missing. He'll need to return and collect anything we don't need.  
Besides, I'm not taking garbage back."

Victoria wrapped her coat around herself tighter, sneering at the snow.

"Now is not a great time for you to get paranoid." She quipped.

"You know," He snapped, throwing down a canister. "It is remarkable  
how utterly useless you become once I try to get a handle on things."

"Don't *call* me that, you bastard! Remember you wouldn't have been  
able to pull off your role in that filthy dump of a city without my unique  
form of *persuasion*! Why don't you concern yourself with finding a  
way to keep the wolves from eating our supplies?"

He spun to look at her.

"*What* wolves?" he growled.

"The ones who left paw prints out back. I noticed them this morning."

He began tearing the boxes apart in frenzy, leaving the food and other  
items scattered about.

"What's going on?!" Victoria demanded.

He found the box he was looking for. Written on the outside was, 'From  
Detective Armani'. He ripped open the box and let his eyes roam over  
the item within, the shock and fury rising by the nanosecond. It was  
the remains of the shattered snow globe, now each delicate piece glued  
snugly together. At the top, in the corner, there was one missing piece.  
It symbolized loss and the meeting of a challenge. He knew who had found  
him.

"That wasn't *just* a wolf." He stated, his eyes still fixated on the  
reassembled globe. "It was Diefenbaker."

"What?" she whispered, her eyes growing wide.

"We have to get out of here."

"That's crazy!" she exclaimed. "We'll never get ahead of that blizzard!"

He looked at her enraged. She was right. They were stuck. He grabbed  
the snow globe out of the box and smashed it to pieces with his hands,  
just as he did in the Vecchio household six months ago.

"VECCHIO!!" he screamed above the howling winds. "I KNOW YOU'RE OUT  
THERE!! YOU ARE A DEAD MAN, DO YOU HEAR ME?! A *DEAD* MAN!!"

He faced her panting heavily, his throat sore from yelling. He reached  
into the snowmobile and pulled out his father's rifle. He cocked his  
head, straining to hear. The snow and the wind muffled the sounds of  
the area, but he could tell the Italian was close by.

"What?" she asked.

"Quiet!"

The cock of a rifle was heard in the distance. Fraser lowered his own,  
deciding instead to live.

"He won't shoot and backup won't come anyway, not until the storm let's  
up." Fraser reasoned aloud.

"How the Hell did they find us?!" Victoria demanded.

"I don't know...I don't know..." was all the brilliant son of a legend  
could mutter.

Once they emerged, they were striking, the trio poised against the backdrop  
of the frozen northern sky. They descended the small hill slowly, Ray's  
gun tipped sideways and aimed at Victoria. Ren's rifle was slung over  
the crook of his arm, directed at Fraser. Dief barked and growled, but  
stayed put. Fraser took it all in completely dumbfounded, but it wasn't  
until he swallowed tightly did Ray revel in his fear.

The ex-Mountie looked so different than what Ray remembered. His hair  
was longer and unkempt. He needed a shave and his eyes looked tired  
from running. Something deep tugged at Vecchio when he looked in those  
eyes, but he stayed firm.

"Give it up, Fraser. It's over. The Mountie's know where we are."

"I don't believe it..." he whispered, the snow making him blink quickly.

"Sorry to impress you, really I am." Ray drawled.

"No, I mean that you're fucking *him*!" Fraser spat back.

"I was good enough for you..." Turnbull cooed from behind his curled  
arm. His smile was partially hidden, but obvious in his voice.

"What?!" Victoria demanded. "What does he mean by that?!"

"Shut the Hell up, bitch." the dark haired Canadian said flippantly.

She became livid. "You involved him in our plan?! You *fucked* him?!  
You bloody BASTARD!"

She emphasized her point with a vicious slap across his face. What she  
lacked in physical prowess, she made up with ferociousness. He stumbled,  
caught off guard.

"Hmmm. Look, Ray." Ren cooed. "It appears they're about to start fucking  
right out here in the cold."

Fraser met his eyes, staring stupidly. Turnbull lowered the gun precisely  
five centimeters. He cocked his eyebrows, speaking in a haughty tone.

"You see, that's what Mr. Zuko told us. She likes to fight before getting  
it. I do believe he called it her form of foreplay."

The demon within rose up and Fraser nearly exploded in a jealous rage.  
He turned, grabbed Victoria, shaking her while screaming at her.

"Did you fuck that *wop*?! Did you?! ANSWER ME!!"

She couldn't speak he was throttling her so badly. She brought her knee  
up, it connecting with his groin. He yelled and flinched, but did not  
let go. Turnbull smiled the widest, most evil grin. He couldn't help  
but to indulge in their pain.

**People can be too smart for their own good.**

Garette said that to him, but now it finally made sense: Ren couldn't  
believe they were so stupid as to fall for the oldest routine in the  
book, the practice of 'divide and conquer'.

Fraser slapped her hard. It was more of a punch. She landed on the  
ground, but was on her feet in a flash, blood trickling from her lip.  
Diefenbaker began to howl. The frigid wind carried the scent of blood  
from the woman who tried to kill him and the delicious fear of his former,  
traitorous pack leader. He was finding it hard to obey The Blond One  
and The Donut Man. He wanted to taste that blood. Ren raised the gun  
so that Fraser's head was back in his line of sight.

"Well, Fraser? Should I release the wolf?" Turnbull inquired.

Victoria began to panic, seeing the look in Dief's eyes. She remembered  
that look from the time in Chicago when she shot him.

"No! Keep that thing away from me! Ben, do something!"

"I said shut up!" Fraser said.

Her eyes narrowed. She began talking to Fraser, her voice soft and calm.

"Get me the Hell out of here, Ben."

"Oh, no you don't, dearie!" Vecchio retorted, waving his gun. "One more  
word out of you and I'll make sure he never hears that sweet little voice  
again!"

Victoria just smiled, ducked behind Fraser and pulled her own weapon  
\- Ray's old backup gun. Ray and Ren exchanged nervous glances.

"Drop it, Victoria!" Ray demanded.

"Does it look familiar, Vecchio?" she sneered, coming to stand behind  
Fraser. Her mate began to raise his father's rifle.

"Oh, no you don't!" Victoria snapped. "I'm not so sure I want you to  
get through this, after screwing that moron, Fraser. You can be my *cover*,  
though."

"Victoria, don't do this!" Fraser pleaded. "He...it meant nothing to  
me, I swear!"

"That's not what you said when I had you down my throat." Ren arrogantly  
retorted.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" Fraser spat back.

"Oh, I see he uses that name for the all the people he fucks, huh, Vicky?!"  
Ren said, the words swimming in irony.

She used him as a human shield to move back towards the snowmobile.   
A cold that rivaled the artic reflected in her eyes.

"Raise the gun, Fraser." She whispered. "And, by the way, Renfield,  
yes he does."

Once Ben had, she turned her own firearm and shot...  
It was the second time Rennie felt his shoulder explode in pain. He  
fell to the snowy ground screaming, blood rapidly seeping through his  
coat.

"Oh, God!" he panted, clutching at his arm.

"*Rennie*!" Ray yelled, coming over to kneel with his lover. Somehow,  
his aim never wavered.

"It's not bad..." Ren whispered, his breaths heavy in plumes of white  
mist all around them.

"Come on, Vecchio!" Victoria coaxed from behind Ben's shoulder. "Get  
your revenge! Shoot him! Shoot us both!"

Ray could hear klaxons going off in his head. The blood was pounding  
in his ears, to the same beat it pulsated out of Rennie's body. He had  
to get the bleeding stopped! Victoria turned to jump on the snowmobile.  
Fraser stood still for a few seconds, rifle still trained on them, then  
joined her. They didn't even look back when they took off. Just as  
before.

"Damn it!" Ray cursed and started after them.

Ren looked over at Dief, his arm aching. He screamed, "GO!"

Like greased lightening on literal ice, the wolf shot forward. Ren ran  
behind him as best he could. It took no time at all for Dief to catch  
up to them. They had only gotten a short distance away before a nearly  
rabid wolf almost jumped them. Victoria looked behind her, saw how close  
Diefenbaker was and headed straight for the lake. Fraser went ballistic.

"Not the ice, you fool! NOT the lake! It's only partially frozen!"

"He'd be crazy to follow, now wouldn't he?!" Metcalf responded as they  
glided on to the frosty surface.

Fraser, however, wasn't in the mood to debate.

"I said, NOT the *lake*!"

He grabbed the controls and swerved the motorized sled to the left, but  
Dief was way ahead of them. He'd already anticipated their move and  
turned sharply, and jumped...

He landed on Fraser's back, tossing them both off the snowmobile, making  
the rifle skip along the frozen field. The snowmobile was last seen  
bubbling into the icy water. He allowed Fraser to toss him aside so  
he could roll, roll, and scramble to his feet...and attack his prey head  
on.

"*NO*!!! Metcalf screamed at the top of her lungs as the white lupine  
tore her clothing to shreds.

Ray and Ren waited on the shore watching the entire scenario. Fraser  
looked helplessly from Victoria to Ray. The snow was coming down in  
sheets now, collecting on everything and everyone. The only way to get  
to his gun would be to cross the unstable, cracking ice. There was, of  
course, another way.

"Call the wolf off!" he shouted to the two men he'd nearly destroyed.  
Ray regarded him with angry eyes.

"Why, Fraser? Why should I?"

"Because he'll kill her!"

"And why should I care?"

The ex-Mountie was becoming exasperated. The screams of utter desperation  
from his soulmate raked his guts like a scalpel. The frozen falling  
particles tickled his nose as he briskly inhaled them.

"Vecchio, get that fucking dog off of her or I'll-"

The Italian sneered back, "Or you'll do WHAT?! YOU do not call the shots  
here, Fraser! You want the wolf gone, you do it yourself!"

By now, the screams had ceased. Maybe she'd fainted, maybe worse. She  
was lying there, with Dief licking at the blood on her skin. Fraser  
began his slow trek across the ice to his rifle. He took one step, then  
two. The ice broke apart a foot from him and he did a little hop-skip  
to avoid falling in.

The gun was not far away. He advanced a little at almost a shuffle.  
He slipped, swayed, and up righted himself, still coming up short. Fraser  
knew the water wasn't very deep. It'd probably come up to his chest.  
Still, the risk of hypothermia was greatly increased and he wasn't entirely  
sure the Detective was going to let him out of the water as it was.

Vecchio held the trigger on his own weapon with a snug fit. He began  
to worry that Fraser would make it, seeing he had accomplished even crazier  
feats during their prior association. He didn't bow his head. He didn't  
close his eyes. But he did say a prayer.

**I can't let him do it, God. Please understand. I can't let him escape.  
He can't reach that gun...**

Before Ray could complete his divine request, Fraser actually slipped  
and fell. The ice could be heard breaking under him. The Detective  
knew that sharp mind was calculating the different stages he was going  
to die. It didn't really warm the Italian that much, but he was happy,  
in any case, to see his enemy terrified. Vecchio went back to tending  
to Rennie's wound, seeing that the bleeding had stopped for the time  
being. The ex-Mountie tried to stand, looking over as the ice broke  
and his father's rifle went under. He reached his feet and began to  
make it over to Victoria. That's when the world fell away...   
Rennie looked up just in time.

"DIEF!" Rennie screamed. "Get BACK here!"

The wolf obeyed, hopping and skipping over the dissolving watery ground  
under his paws. He was just a yard away when the ice broke and his back  
half fell into the water, his front paws scrabbling on the ice patch  
to keep his head above water.

"Dief!" Ren screamed, jumped up and ran out onto the edge. He lay flat,  
ignoring his wound and stretched his hands out as far as they would go.  
Ray seen he was still short and knew hoisting one hundred pounds of wet  
wolf was going to be hard enough. He took off his belt and hand handed  
it to Ren. If nothing else, they could at least keep his head above  
water while trying to save him. Dief stayed still and whined as Turnbull  
slid the belt around his torso, his furry body shaking badly reflecting  
how cold he was.

"I know, boy." Ren cooed. "We'll get you out, okay? Just trust me.  
Ray, you're going to have to help."

"I know." The Detective was fully aware he was about to risk his life  
for a deaf wolf, but he was more concerned about Dief and Rennie than  
anyone else in the world right now.  
Ray looked up at Fraser before heading out on the ice himself.

Victoria was still on the ice, but the water was rising. Fraser broke  
the surface, coughing and sputtering, practically screaming. Even Ray  
winced at the idea, the feeling of ice water soaking his clothes, to  
his very bones. The dark-haired Canadian began to make his way over  
it to Metcalf. He seized Victoria, who's own coat was drenched, and  
threw her over his shoulder. After nearly falling and dropping her a  
couple of times, he carefully continued his journey to the edge of the  
snow bank away from the two men.

Ray stood at the edge and took hold of one Diefenbaker paws. Rennie  
took hold of the other and they managed to pull their friend to safety.  
He huddled up on the shore and Ren took off his outer coat and wrapped  
him up in it.

"We must get him inside soon." He warned.

"What about them?" Ray nodded toward the other victims of the lake.

"We'll wait for a few and if they go under, we leave. If they get out,  
we arrest them." Ren stated simply while looking after Diefenbaker.

Vecchio turned his attention to Fraser. The Canadian was completely  
exhausted from his actions, the cold having seeped into his very soul.  
The numbness was already robbing him of sensations in his feet and legs,  
the toes biting in protest. The gloves he wore were useless, the fingers  
becoming thick and unfeeling. Victoria had always been a waif of a woman,  
but now felt heavy enough to make carrying her a chore. He couldn't  
stand much longer and had to get them both out of the water before he  
collapsed.

At that point, he didn't care if Vecchio turned him in, if he could just  
get warm. He took a step...and slipped again. Total panic kicked in  
as he went under, this time, taking Victoria with him. It was his scream  
Dief recognized and was after him in a flash. Only this time, the wolf's  
objective was not to keep the man from drowning. He bolted from under  
Ren's coat, making his way to the shoreline.

"Dief! What are you doing?!" Turnbull snapped.

Both men stared as the white half-breed canine came to stand before the  
water. Dief just stood there, intensely watching the couple in the lake,  
his golden eyes sorrowful. Fraser did not notice he was so intent on  
simply surviving. His head was down and he was down and he was breathing  
in shallow pants. Dief seemed deep in thought, like he was re-living  
a memory. He dipped his head down and flattened his ears. Fraser head  
jerked up, their eyes meeting. Ray saw the Canadian mouth the wolf's  
name. It ignited the hatred that had been building in the animal for  
half a year.

Diefenbaker went crazy, barking and growling and snapping like he was  
going to kill anyone that even came close to him. Even Fraser backed  
off, as cold as he was and still carrying Victoria. The awful realization  
came to the ex-Mountie when Diefenbaker bared his fangs. That animal  
was not going to let them out of the water! He was going to let them  
die out here. Ray came to stand by the wolf, knowing he posed no threat.  
He regarded the scene with the initial perceptions of closure. This  
was going to be the end for them.

"Call...call him off, Ray." Fraser said, his voice revealing how close  
he was to fainting.

Ray shook his head in mock disappointment.

"I don't think he's going to listen to me, Fraser."

"Please..." Fraser begged, "You know I can't run now. Just...let us  
out."

Ray had a small attack of guilt and retreated a little himself. He began  
to see such a forward show of maliciousness wasn't necessary.

"Come on, Dief, let them be." Ray murmured quietly.

At that point, Dief abruptly backed off, whining loudly, sounding almost  
like he was crying. Ray looked at him rather stunned, not believing  
he'd listened. Still, he an idea why Dief stopped. After all Fraser  
had done, even Dief couldn't bring himself to force them to die like  
that. The sad animal returned to the warmth of Turnbull's coat.

He watched as Fraser deposited Victoria in the snow, but did not offer  
a helping hand. The Canadian made it out of the water, where he collapsed  
in the fetal position next to Metcalf. Ray came over to look down on  
the wounded man. So, this was it. This was the end of the last year  
and a half of his life. He could not help but to feel an extreme sadness  
mixed with the relief.

"Leave already..." Fraser said, panting heavily. "Just let us die out  
here, like we should have the...first time. That's your plan, right?"

"Actually, no. But I'm glad you suggest it. It's a good idea." Ray  
said glibly. "By the way, is she dead?" Ray asked.

A sheet of ice was already starting to cover Fraser and Victoria's bodies,  
linking them together as before. Impossibly, the dark-haired man laughed  
a little.

"She won't die. She never does. It's like she can't." he said with  
closed eyes, his body starting to shake uncontrollably. "You...surprised  
me, Detective. Not only do you find us, but also you're going to kill  
us by leaving us out here. Much more cunning than any of our previous  
adventures." Ray smiled sadly. It was just like the handsome sociopath  
to talk as if they were truly old friends. Fraser huddled up to Victoria  
before speaking again. There were no poetic words to keep him alive  
this time. He'd freeze to death before long. The Italian liked that  
idea.

"Ray, don't do this..." Fraser implored. "You've won, you know that.  
Turn us in, send us to jail, I don't care. But...not this, not like  
this. I can't go through this again. I lost too much of myself the  
first time to her. But you know that don't you?" Time passed and when  
Ray just stood there, Fraser said, "Looks like you're more vicious than  
I thought, Vecchio."

"I was taught cruelty by the best." The Italian quipped.

**My God, I sound like Fraser and Metcalf that night with Zuko.** Ray  
thought, but he still didn't budge.

"You're more like me than I thought." Fraser said, more to himself than  
anyone.

Tears leaked from Fraser's eyes, but he never actually cried. He pulled  
the unconscious female form closer, resided to his fate. He never once  
opened his eyes. Ray turned, collected Dief and Turnbull and climbed  
on the snowmobile, complete with supplies and headed for the cabin.   
The sadistic thrill left him giddy, excited, but he ignored it. He was  
not like them, he reminded himself. With Turnbull steering, Vecchio  
was able to throw a glance over his shoulder, the two bodies becoming  
smaller in the snowstorm the further away they got.

Back at the cabin, he tended to Ren's injury, which wasn't as bad as  
he'd originally thought. The bullet had passed straight through, hence  
the damage being minimal. Ren was silent the entire time. Once the  
bandage was in place, Ray looked at him and sighed.

"The RCMP won't be here for a while, right? Not until the storm let's  
up?" Vecchio asked. Ren said nothing. He was highly disappointed in  
his owns actions, allowing himself to get shot like that. He could barely  
look at Ray. Turnbull wondered how the Detective could not be angry  
with him.

"It wasn't your fault." Ray stated, practically reading his thoughts.  
Still no response. "Rennie, how were you supposed to know she was going  
to shoot you? It just as easily could have been me."

"But it wasn't you." Turnbull flatly replied. "I became the victim,  
as usual, while you had to do everything."

"I didn't do everything! *You* saved Dief from drowning! I was too  
oblivious to notice."

"You were taking care of me." Ren said, pain dripping from his words.

"That's no excuse! Will you stop blaming yourself for getting wounded?  
*Every night*, you use your training to keep us from freezing or starving  
out here when it's too late to make it back to the outpost. You went  
along with me when I staked out this place and had Dief check it out  
as well. Hell, it was you who let me try my hunch I got from my dream  
with my father that we look for a cabin as elaborate as this."

Vecchio couldn't believe his father, babbling once more about looking  
out for number one, helped him realize if Fraser hated living in Chicago  
in that hideous apartment, then it would make sense he wouldn't be living  
like that now. He asked around at the outpost and the local villages  
where such a luxurious place like this would be located. That's when  
he knew for certain Constable Perry was the contact for Victoria and  
Fraser. The older Mountie explained all about how he'd searched that  
region and there was nothing to worry about. They found it on their  
second day of hunting, far away from the RCMP local headquarters, complete  
with their enemies inside.

"My point is, Turnbull, you could've balked and demanded to turn them  
in then, but you didn't. You let me place the snow globe in the supplies  
when Perry wasn't looking. You didn't have to let me do that, you know.  
Christ, you are impossible sometimes!"

Ren waited before speaking, allowing his gaze to bore into Ray. "You  
do know they're dying as we speak?"

"Yes." Ray said knowingly, putting on the final touches of the gauze.  
"I'm just glad it's over."

"Me, too."

Ray thought he should look away, wondering how he kept winding up in  
these situations with Turnbull without a shirt on. Just looking at him  
brought the Italian back to the last time the Canadian was topless, when  
he practically fucked him through the wall of the outpost.

"Ray?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you staring?"

"Nevermind, Rennie."

Rennie reached out and grabbed his chin, their gaze locking. Ray stopped  
short. He began to blush heavily, fully aware Rennie was aroused as  
well. The unspoken reason for the surge in passion was the fact they  
were allowing their enemies to die. They came together simultaneously,  
the passion in their groins spurred on by their own devious actions.  
It was overwhelming, this dark lust, but Ray refused to back down. He  
wanted it, as much as his eager partner did. He grabbed Rennie and melded  
their bodies together, locked in a deep kiss.

"Oh, God...oh, God, Rennie...yes..." Ray panted as he stripped him of  
the rest his attire. He let Turnbull aid in the removal of his clothes  
as he continued to speak. "How did you know I wanted this?"

"After what they did to us, it is expected to want revenge, Ray."

"But this is wrong."

He said it. It was out there for both men to look at and judge the situation.  
Their eyes met again briefly.

"Maybe." Ren confessed. "But definitely human."

Ren kissed him again and the Detective was lost. Before the Italian  
knew what hit him, they were in bed, the scent of Fraser and Victoria  
filling their lungs. Vecchio abandoned his conscience in that instant  
and reveled in the slow death taking the bodies outside. He had to drag  
up those tainted memories with Fraser, dust off the stained shared experiences  
he'd buried and indulge in the fact he was he was the one laughing last.

And he did. He laughed as he thrust against Turnbull recklessly, with  
Rennie pushing and grunting back, getting off as well on the agony of  
the people who deceived them, who nearly ruined them...who brought them  
together. The night of The Ultimate Betrayal came back, Frankie's touch  
burning his skin, the fear and pain of his family, the nightmares that  
plagued him and the absolute despair which drove him to take his own  
life...*they* were finally paying for it! The light and hurt and ecstasy  
blended, capturing the wanton spirit and subjected it to the ultimate  
rapture.

Ray convulsed with tears in his eyes and detected a few seconds later  
the semen from his partner mixing with his own, pooling in his navel.  
He held onto Rennie tight, neither of them speaking, boneless and calm  
for the first time in ages. They lay there awhile longer and soon the  
blond Mountie looked into Ray's eyes, smiled and excused himself to the  
bathroom. Vecchio relaxed, totally ignoring the totally hedonistic last  
ten or so minutes.

"I got to hand it to you, son, I didn't think you could do it."

Ray's eyes nearly popped out. He hoped he was dreaming again.

"Thanks, Pop. I'm *so* glad you enjoyed it."

"Well, you're still sick for being a pillow-biter. But leaving that  
asshole and his bitch to die a slow death! That was *great*! You're  
finally starting to see life like it really is. Now, all you need to  
do is unload the retard-"

"Don't call him that!" Ray snapped.

"Look, this is your opportunity to stop being a wimp!" his father insisted.  
"You did good leaving them out there to die, now all you need to do is  
make sure this stupid canuk knows he's just here until you find the right  
girl."

"Then what, Pop? Slap her around so she knows whose boss?"

This conversation was continuously making Ray ill. He didn't like what  
his father was suggesting, despite it being the truth.

"If that what is takes. I had to make sure your mama knew that house  
was mine!"

"Well, it's mine now, so shove off, Pop!"

His father didn't retort with some cruel advice, which Ray found shocking.  
An odd gleam twinkled in Carmine Vecchio's eyes.

"Yeah, it is." The elder Vecchio's voice was smug. "And you killed the  
one who nearly made you lose it. Good work, son! I think I'm now even  
proud enough to call you my own."

Ray practically leaped from the bed. Rennie came out of the bathroom  
and look at him askance. Vecchio began frantically hunting for his clothes,  
ignoring Rennie's inquiries as to what was wrong.

**It's been less than an hour. They should still be alive.** he thought  
while putting on his pants.

"We...can't do this. I can't let them die, Rennie." He cast a glance  
over his shoulder. "Rennie, please. You have to help me."

"*Why*, Ray? Tell me why we should save them!"

Ray faced him, breathing hard. "Because I...we're not like them. I  
can't be...We just can't. You know that, Ren."

"What about what we just did?! You didn't seem too concerned then!"

"I know...please, Ren. I...we were wrong! I can't do this and I won't  
let *you* do this. You're a Mountie...and I can't even remotely think  
about causing you to act like..."

Ray stopped, aware just how hurtful his next words just might be. Still,  
the full impact of the diabolical ramifications hit Turnbull like a ton  
of bricks. Ray was crystal clear in being right about this. There was  
no way in Hell he was ever going to act like Fraser, no matter how much  
he hated what he'd done.

Ren nodded slowly in agreement and made a dash for his own clothes.   
It was mere minutes later when they reached the frozen forms by the lake.  
Turnbull, even though injured, dragged the sled over to the two near  
death. He began giving instructions to carry them as gently as possible,  
doing so as he moved Fraser. Ray didn't want to argue in the face of  
the blizzard and did as Ren said.

He scooped up Victoria with little effort and placed her and beside Fraser  
on the sled. A siren was going off in his head and butterflies were  
eating away at his stomach. What if they were beyond help? He buried  
that thought while joining Rennie on the back of the snowmobile. Once  
back at the cabin, they brought them inside.

"Ray, do you feel a pulse? I do on Fraser."

"I'm...not sure." Ray said, his fingers touching the side of her throat.  
"Yes, I think I do. Wait...a strong one at that!"

He shot Ren a look of utter disbelief. "How's that possible?" he asked.

Ren, however, wasn't listening. "Remove her clothing." he told the Italian.  
"I'll start on Fraser. Don't jostle her too quickly. It could cause  
an irregular heart rhythm."

Ray understood what Rennie was trying to do. He couldn't help feeling  
odd as Hell, however, gently disrobing this woman. Vecchio could see,  
aside from a few deep bites, Dief had succeeded really in only scaring  
the living daylights out of Victoria. The fire was still going in the  
fireplace and Turnbull threw some more wood on and stoked the flames.  
He went to the bed, grabbed a blanket and wrapped Fraser's naked body,  
placing him by the fire. Ray mirrored Rennie's actions, putting Metcalf  
closer to the hearth, seeing she was smaller and more vulnerable. The  
two men stood back to contemplate their work.

"I don't think we'll have to worry about it, but it's a good idea to  
keep an eye on them and make sure they don't warm up too fast."

Silence followed Ren's words.

"You know, " Vecchio said distantly, "Fraser once offered to share body  
heat with me to keep from freezing."

Ren did not take his eyes off the two in front of the fire while he spoke.  
"Ray, I wouldn't do that now if my own life depended on it." The Canadian's  
voice grew somber. "I...can't believe what we...did earlier."

Ray ducked his head. He, too, wasn't exactly proud of the heinous lovemaking  
they'd engaged in. He wasn't going to feel bad for too long, however.

"Rennie, they ain't exactly the Pope and Mother Teresa, you know. Besides,  
afterwards you were wonderful." Ray said, facing his lover.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on." Ray chided, while smiling. "How professional you were,  
using all your skills like that to help save them. Even...agreeing that  
we were wrong at the start. It was very *Mountie*-like. You...did good,  
Ren. I'm proud of you."

Ren blushed and looked away. Hardly ever had anyone say they were proud  
of him. And Ray truly meant every word he said. He'd managed to touch  
the Detective, to have Ray appreciate him for who he genuinely was.   
The Italian even forgave him for his lapse in his moral code in their  
fight against Fraser and Victoria. It was all Turnbull ever wanted.  
The Italian and he had connected. Most importantly, they'd bonded in  
another place than just in bed. It was something Fraser would never  
have given him, or any other lover to date. He fought backs tears as  
he spoke.

"Thank you, Ray. I'm just glad I was here to help."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fraser woke again with a start. His hands were still cuffed behind him,  
but he *was* dressed and warm. He smiled fully. It hadn't been a dream.  
Ray had saved him. He could also tell Ray was watching him now. He  
turned over awkwardly in bed, only to find Vecchio sitting with gun in  
hand. Fraser blinked slowly, wishing he could rub his eyes.

"Thank you for saving me, Ray." He stated.

Vecchio just shook his head. "It never stops with you, does it?"

"How do you mean?"

"Just shut up. The storm is over and the Mountie's are on their way."

The other man nodded slowly, then decided to press his luck.

"Um...Victoria?"

"She's in the next room."

"Is she okay?"

Ray leaned in, his voice cool and calm.

"Why don't you tell me?"

Ben eyed him for a minute, then slumped his shoulders.

"May...may I have some water?"

Ray jumped up, anger blazing. He caught the look of apprehension in  
Fraser and decided once again against killing him. Ray got up and turned  
to fill a glass from a nearby pitcher. Fraser could not believe the  
Detective was so stupid as to turn his back like that, even if he did  
still have the gun. It made no difference, though. He was at the end  
of his escape from this man he'd destroyed completely.

On the off chance he could break the cuffs, he'd have to take on Vecchio  
and Turnbull in full revenge mode, leaving without his lifemate. No,  
it was better to wait for the authorities to mess up in his transportation  
to jail to make his escape. It was how he got Victoria out of confinement  
to begin with. During a prison transfer, he was able to make off with  
not only her, but also his identity still a secret. The RCMP could be  
so very slow about such things...  
He tentative made his way to the edge of the bed and just sat there,  
his feet now on the floor.

Ray held the glass to his lips, those eyes, cold but striking, looking  
up at him as Fraser gulped down the liquid like it was golden, the cobalt  
eyes fluttering shut in response. Vecchio allowed him to drink it all,  
then placed the glass nearby. He reseated himself and menacingly gazed  
at Fraser.

"For what it's worth," Fraser began, "I didn't pretend the entire time."

Ray raised the gun. "Buddy, you are less than one step away from getting  
your kneecaps blown off. Understand?"

"Yes, I do. But I don't think you will."

Ray looked like he would faint. "Excuse me?!"

"Because even you know...at times I believed it myself. Believed that  
I was...him."

Fraser swallowed hard and Ray softened a bit. The Canadian was right.  
It was a fact Ray didn't like believing and had refused to look at completely  
ever since Garette told him said information. The truth was there was  
the smallest part inside Fraser that wasn't faking it, meaning the most  
painful reality of all - "Benny" did exist.

"It isn't what you really are and we both know that, Fraser." Vecchio  
growled.

"True enough." Fraser responded. "But, I still-"

Ray could not take this. He couldn't handle sitting here and listen  
to this man try to worm his way out of what he'd done.

"SHUT UP!! Just shut up!" Ray yelled. "It made no difference to you  
that night with Zuko or when you first came to Chicago or when you sold  
your soul to that bitch! *I* never mattered to you!"

Fraser became scared, believing he'd pushed Ray too far. His mind was  
working quickly, thinking of anything that might quell the Detective's  
anger.

"I said your name..." he hesitantly offered. At Vecchio's confused reaction,  
he finished with, "When I was with Turnbull. I did. I let it slip out,  
then I realized the boy was serving me and he'd never betray me as long  
as I gave him what he-"

A butt of the gun connected with his jaw and he felt a pop, tasting iron  
afterward.

"I said, shut UP!" the Italian screamed. It upset Ray greatly to hear  
this garbage from his ex-partner. He was crumbling after so long of  
wanting to confront him.

"It's true." Fraser whispered. "Ask him."

The innocent intonation reflected the simple truth: why hadn't Turnbull  
told him this? What did he think he was hiding? Fraser could see those  
questions playing across the Detective's face. Ray was being torn to  
shreds inside. This had been a bad idea. The worse part was knowing  
Fraser wasn't *completely* responsible for his actions. He was like  
a heroin addict who simply refused to stop using, doing whatever it took  
to maintain that insatiable high and yet uselessly regretting what he  
had to do to get there. It shattered Ray's soul to see someone he once  
cared about so deeply, loved so much, to be such a puppet to that black-hearted  
bitch.

Like a con artist who starts a church with the sole motivation of profit  
in mind eventually winding up truly believing what he preaches from the  
pulpit, was *exactly* what became of Fraser. And like the fact he felt  
odd at arranging for his own father's death, had he allowed himself only  
the most basic indulgence while in Chicago and with the mystical assistance  
of his dark lady, he was able to live the dream he was Benton Fraser,  
R.C.M.P., *convinced* he was Ray's friend. When it got to be too much  
and he could no longer deny his dark side, he turned to Turnbull for  
comfort.

It was how he kept it from Dief and how he hid it from Garette. It was  
a sort of willing brainwashing able to stand up to any scrutiny, including  
a sentient wolf and a homeless psychic. How he so grandly perpetuated  
the falsehood to everyone else. It was because he lied so utterly and  
thoroughly to himself. Metcalf had shed her skin and Fraser had been  
wrapped up so tightly in the facade she cast, he became the man he portrayed.

It vacuumed the life-essence right out of him when he and Metcalf parted  
for his stint in the Windy City. But that lonely, coldly-calculating,  
stunningly brilliant mind found a way to exist without the woman who  
sustained him by playing the part to perfection, to where it seeped into  
his own thought processes, mannerisms and every molecule of his spirit.  
Until his sinful nature demanded to be slaked, hence his taking Rennie  
as a slave.

None of it mattered, of course. In the end, Fraser was Victoria's property.  
He more than willingly decimated Ray and left him in the arms of a rapist  
to be with her, to delight in the agony he'd caused. Still, the slightest  
knowledge that his friend did exist on some level was killing Vecchio  
on the spot. That Fraser wasn't rotten to the core had him shaking badly.  
It took a good sixty seconds to get himself under control, to see his  
plan to the end.

"What, Fraser?" he said, his voice cracking. "You think I'm gonna' let  
you go or something?"

"Of course not." The dark-haired man countered. "I know you'd never  
do that. I just... wanted you to know...that if I had...a choice..."

Ray looked up to see the ex-Mountie in tears. He stared dumbfounded.  
He'd never seen Fraser so vulnerable, so helpless. And that's when he  
snapped.

"Oh, God, Benny, don't do this!" he barked, standing and turning away.

Fraser's eyes grew to this size of saucers.

"W-what?" he breathed, stunned beyond belief.

He struggled to his feet, more flabbergasted than anyone on the planet.  
He felt woozy it was so overwhelming.

"What...did you call me, Ray?" he gently inquired.

"Stop it..." Ray pleaded, but not loud. It was more of a whisper.

Benny slowly came closer, advancing with all the nervousness of a fawn  
leaning to walk. He stopped a bare inch from the Detective. Ray could  
feel the heat coming off Fraser's body.

"*What* did you call me, Ray?"

Tears flooded the Italian's eyes and he really didn't care what happened  
in the next few minutes because it was all coming to an end and he knew  
this would be this last time he would be able to do any of this.

"Benny...why?" he choked out. "*Why* did you do that...to me?" He said,  
the quiet tone betraying the rage underneath.

"I had no choice, Ray. I admit I was wrong. I know I hurt you."

"*Hurt* me?!" Ray seethed. "You ruined my life and threw me to the dogs,  
Fraser."

"It was her will...and yes I eagerly followed, but...I did want to be  
with you. You *know* that."

He did know it. Ray nearly collapsed under the barrage of emotions he  
was feeling. Vecchio couldn't take much more of this. It was a good  
he saw this confrontation coming and prepared for it. He couldn't believe  
the things he was considering now that he was in the man's presence.  
But that's the way it always had been with Fraser, hadn't it? Ray was  
his protector, his guardian angel, the one always trying to save him,  
help him and, eventually, the only one who truly loved him.

"Ray...please-"

Suddenly, Ray was spinning, capturing his mouth with his own, ravishing  
the larger man with long suppressed passion. Fraser responded in full,  
releasing the portion of his being that was never allowed to be seen.  
The part that would've loved Ray Vecchio if things had been different,  
if Benny's soul had never been broken into and a dark entity hadn't slithered  
inside. The reality of the love Fraser lost hit him hard and the fact  
he knew he'd forget it all as soon as he was with her again completed  
the devastation.

"Oh, God, Ray..." he breathed into the neck of the Italian, tears streaming  
down his face. He wouldn't stop kissing him for he knew it was his only  
hope. Finally, Ray pulled away and rested their foreheads together.  
Fraser gulped once, twice and three times before he could speak. Luminous  
green eyes, however, refused to meet his.

"Come...come with me...please." Fraser sincerely begged. He was aware  
this was pointless, but he thought he'd at least try.

Ray reacted only by holding him tighter, his arms around the bulk of  
Fraser's restrained hands. An endless amount of time passed before Vecchio  
spoke. His eyes bore into Fraser with an intense hunger, making the  
Canadian's knees go weak. Had he actually reached him?

"Well...w-what...what about Victoria?" Ray wanted to know.

Fraser sighed in exasperation. "She'll find me, Ray! She always does.  
But, at least we could be together for a while...come on, we can do this!"

He accentuated his point with those perfect lips doing a dance up and  
down Ray's long neck. Ray gasped and clung on tight, returning those  
steamy kisses wherever he could reach. He couldn't lie to himself anymore,  
Vecchio realized. It was now or never. He looked deep into Benny's  
eyes...and put the gun away in his shoulder holster.

"I love you, Benny. I always will." He confessed to the man who came  
closest to the one he cherished.

Benny sighed heavily, a great warmth spreading through him. For the  
first time in six months, he felt like he was back in Chicago, living  
a full life with friends and a purpose. It wouldn't be for long, but  
he'd love Ray Vecchio the best he could. Until his mistress came to  
collect him again. Suddenly, Fraser swayed, leaning on Vecchio. He  
blinked, the image of the Detective going blurry.

"What's...happening?" he said, his words slurred.

He looked up at the Italian. The dark-haired man had probably never  
seen the light die in anyone's eyes faster than the American before him  
at this moment. Everything went fuzzy and stayed that way.

"W-what the Hell...?" he stammered. A sinking feeling, like he was falling,  
consumed him. A ringing smack to his cheek brought him partially back  
to awareness.

"Hey! HEY! Wake up!" he could hear as he was being slapped hard again.  
He concentrated all his efforts on keeping his eyes open and vision normal.  
The distinct image of the Detective swam before him. Chills crept up  
his spine at the fierce coldness of Vecchio's words.

"Did you *really* think I would fall for that, Fraser?"

"What? I...but you..."

"Yeah, I kissed you. Big deal! You think that means anything to me  
now?! WELL?! Answer *me*!!"

"But...you said..."

There was the most softest, darkest laugh.

"I said nothing but the truth, Fraser." He could hear the glowing smile  
that accompanied Ray's hissed words as he snarled them in his face.   
"And what's getting me off right now is the fact I know you did *too*!"

Shock gripped Fraser's stomach in a tight lock. He stumbled to get away  
from the cop, more frightened, more aware than he'd been in a very long  
time. He backed into the bed, flopping down, his senses reeling.

"You...bastard...poisoned me...*how*?!"

"Well, you know what they say, *Benny,* if you're not feelin' too hot,  
it might be something in the water around here."

"Oh, God...no, please, no..." Fraser cringed at the news, realizing that  
was why Ray had turned him back so irresponsibly like that when he got  
the water in the first place.

"You don't think I checked up on you and your little bitch, Fraser?!"  
Ray retorted. "Don't you think I know how you got her out in the first  
place?! I wasn't about to have a repeat escape attempt!"

"You...betrayed...me!" Fraser cried out. "You...didn't have...to...set  
me up...like this!" he argued through a haze of tranquilizers pumping  
through his system, the remains of 'Benny's' conscience still lingering,  
absorbing the pain. It all went black for a moment and when he awoke,  
he couldn't open his eyes. He stayed that way for the longest time,  
slipping in and out of consciousness. He wasn't even sure how much time  
had passed when the RCMP came in the room and dragged him to his feet  
and hauled him away.

"RAY!" He screamed, as he was being taken out. "WHY!? You didn't have  
to do this! I...thought you..."

Ray couldn't help feel it was a mirrored event between Victoria and Fraser  
eleven years ago. The ex-Mountie didn't even pause to look Turnbull's  
way when he passed him. The blond man came to stand behind the Detective,  
his arm loosely draped around his shoulders, his head resting on Ray's  
shoulder.

"Did you want to say anything to him before he's gone?" Vecchio asked  
his partner.

Ren stared straight ahead, watching Fraser's nearly unconscious form  
being removed from the scene. They both did. Victoria had never regained  
consciousness and was being taken to the hospital. To have such unearthly  
power, Vecchio noted, Metcalf was surprisingly susceptible to the elements.  
It had been the only way he was able to pull off his little psychological  
game with Fraser, knowing she wasn't awake enough to tug his strings  
into obeying.

Vecchio had dug in deep into Fraser's psyche and yanked out the minute  
portion known as his friend for the explicit purpose of putting "Benny"  
through Hell. It was excruciating, but he thoroughly enjoyed the outcome.  
Things had turned a complete circle on Fraser, a total reversal of events,  
who was the one this time being dragged off feeling betrayed. The Italian  
would have to send Carver a thank you note for the how-to instructions  
on suck a task.

"No. I really didn't mean anything to him. Nothing I say would have  
any affect on him." Said Turnbull.

The mood around them grew a tad sadder at the Mountie's words.

"I'm sorry, Ren."

"I'm not."

Ray could tell he was smiling. He turned to look at his lover.

"And why is that?" Vecchio asked, unsure he really wanted to know the  
answer.

"Because I love you." Ren said.

Ray smiled broadly. He'd waited for this. Waited until the time was  
right to say it to Ren. He refused when he'd felt it after they'd made  
love, he backed down from it when Ren helped to save Victoria and Fraser  
and he even denied it when Rennie got shot. It thrilled him to no end  
to hear it first. From the day the blue-eyed blond stepped into his  
life with an armful of files and an obsession for justice, he saved and  
restored the life of the Italian. Ray Vecchio got his Mountie. It was  
just the last person in the world he would have guessed it to be.

"I love you, too, Turnbull. I love you, too."

The End. - feedback?


End file.
